


Reunion

by jillyfae



Series: Incorrigible [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Reunions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:56:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to the <i>Normandy</i> at the start of ME3 ... it's good to be home.</p><p>Getting laid is good too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [browncoatfromtheshire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/browncoatfromtheshire/gifts).



"Nobody died."  Joker's voice was soft, almost a whisper in her ear.  
  
Of course, it wasn't just for her, despite her imagination.  It was over the comms because he was flying and she was in the almost a med-bay watching Liara and some poor Alliance medic whose name she didn't even know yet trying to figure out how to help Alenko until they made it to an actual proper hospital on the Citadel.  
  
"Yet."  She mouthed the word almost silently.    
  
Ella wanted more than anything to barge into the cockpit and fling herself all over Joker, actually touch him for the first time in six months, but she had to be _Commander Fucking Shepard_ again, and she wasn't completely sure she remembered how to keep it all together.  
  
"None of that."  She wasn't sure if the mic had picked up her whisper, or if he knew her well enough to read her mood by the set of her shoulders in a tiny security vid, but she couldn't resist shooting a smile in the vague vicinity of the cam on the ceiling at his teasing tone.  "Come bring me some coffee.  I doubt you can glare Alenko better by sheer force of will, and you might be scaring Chief Soun there.  She's not used to Shepard glares yet.  Might think you're serious."  
  
Liara glanced over, an almost smile softening her eyes.  "He's got a point, Shepard.  I think the Major is stable now, let us work?"  Liara's gaze lifted briefly up towards the camera in the ceiling, her smile widening enough to be visible across her lips.    
  
"Thank you," Ella nodded, grateful both for the gentle nudge towards where she wanted to go, as well as the care they were giving Alenko.    
  
 _He'll be alright.  Has to be.  Strong man, Alenko.  He knows we need him._  
  
She paused right before she left anyways, looking back over her shoulder, hoping she was right.  Chief Soun's shoulders eased just a little at the sound of the door opening, and Ella swallowed the urge to snort audibly as she stepped out of the medbay.  
  
Joker had been right.  Again.  As usual.  
  
She smiled as she stalked over towards the coffee-pot.   _Not that I should tell the arrogant SOB that.  He'll never let me hear the end of it._  
  
She made the coffee as strong as she could stand it, though it wasn't quite at the scorched tar level of the stuff Joker usually made on his own.  She leaned against the cabinets as she waited for it to brew, fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of the counter.  
  
Earth. Anderson. Mars. Alenko.  
  
And Joker waiting for her in the cockpit.  
  
Her fingers clenched hard enough she could feel her knuckles crack.  
  
 _Or maybe that's the counter?  Crap.  Stupid cybernetic everything._  
  
She made herself let go, shook her hands gently, trying to relax.  
  
End of the world.  
  
Almost more worried about seeing her pilot again.  
  
 _I'm an idiot._  
  
 _Not that that's new.  Always been an idiot._  
  
Anticipation and grief and nerves and six fucking months without being able to share a single word and wondering if they were both still on the same page or even the same book.   
  
Not that she'd seen more than a handful of books with pages in a good twenty some years.  
  
Not that that had anything to do with her current situation.  
  
She had no idea how he'd survived her two years dead.  She'd had trouble with six months in a room without email, even knowing he was fine and relatively near-by, still working on their ship.  
  
God, she'd missed the _Normandy_ almost as much as she'd missed her pilot.  
  
Well, maybe not that much, but it'd still been a damn fine sight, the _Normandy_ flying to the rescue again.  
  
Ok, that had mostly been because she knew who was at the helm.  
  
Ella grinned as the pot beeped, and dug out two mugs.  
  
Now that she finally had a moment of down-time, nothing for her to do 'til they docked at the Citadel, the end of all that waiting in sight, the anticipation was strangely pleasant, a shiver down her spine, a wiggle in her toes.  She took her time walking up through the CIC, making sure she was learning names and ranks to go with faces, duties lined up with uniforms.  Had to make her poor cobbled-together-skeleton-repair crew as comfortable as possible, after all.  
  
But even savoring a nice slow pace, the feel of ship beneath her boots rather than hallway or floor or earth, it didn't take long to reach her destination, to lean against the bulkhead and admire the line of his shoulders, the shift of exceedingly talented fingers across holo-displays.  
  
She'd rather missed everything about him while in lock up, but she spared an extra thought or two for the things he could do with those hands.  
  
"That better be some spectacular coffee, considering how long you made me wait."  He tilted his head around as he spoke, the brim of his hat shading his eyes, the slightest hint of teeth just visible between his lips as he smiled.  
  
Her breath hissed out as her hands tightened.  If she hadn't had the sense to grab the mugs with lids, she would've spilled coffee all over herself.   _That smile._  Oh yeah, they were still in the same book.  Same page.  Possibly the same letter of the same word.  
  
"It's dreadful coffee."  Ella managed after one hard swallow, feeling herself smile back, her toes curling in her boots as she suppressed the urge to drop everything and clamber onto his chair.  "But I'm bringing it to you, so you're going to like it anyways."  
  
"I am, aren't I."  He shrugged as he turned his chair all the way around, but it clearly wasn't really a question.    
  
She straightened up off the bulkhead, her feet moving forward without any real input from the rest of her.  "Holy fuck, you're a sight for sore eyes."  
  
"Such a mouth on you, Commander."  He'd been staring at the movement of her lips as she spoke, and his eyes were dark when they lifted to look at her properly.  "Going to get yourself in trouble one of these days."  
  
"Oh, I certainly hope so."  Their fingers brushed, just a little, as she handed him his mug, and she felt her nostrils flare and her breath try to catch in her lungs.  She watched the slow blink of his eyelids dropping in reaction, and leaned in even closer, head tilted so she'd fit under his hat, her now free hand braced on the side of his chair.  
  
He opened his eyes, and there was that smile again, all those things they neither of them were very good at saying, clear in the curve of his lips and the creases by his eyes.  
  
"Missed you too."  His voice was rough, barely a whisper, a breath against her mouth an instant before she felt the brush of his lips.    
  
Her eyelids slowly lowered, even as a soft hum rose up through her chest and into her mouth.  He leaned up into her, as if trying to taste the sound of her voice along with her lips, and her fingers clenched around the leather beneath them to hold herself steady.  
  
She'd barely had a chance to notice she was lightheaded, a flush of heat beneath her skin and the thud of her heart in her chest, before he was leaning back in his chair, their mouths slowly separating.  It took another breath or two before her fingers eased and she remembered how to open her eyes.  
  
There was just a hint of green between his lashes, his eyes still mostly closed as well, and she smiled again as he slowly focused on her face.  "Never said I missed you, Joker."  
  
"But you did, didn't you."    
  
 _And yet again, not a question.  Smug bastard._  
  
"Every second."  She ached with it, even now, but the CIC was never really quiet and the cockpit was never really private, so she was just going to have to deal.  She forced herself to stand up straight again, to take a drink of her coffee.  
  
Which actually wasn't that bad.  
  
Wasn't that good, either, but she'd take what she could get.  
  
For now.


	2. Chapter 2

For now lasted a hell of a lot longer than she'd expected.  Huerta Memorial, the Council.   _Fucking council._  Wasn't sure why that still surprised her.  And there was always more to do.  For the ship, for the politicians, for the crew.   For the whole damn galaxy.   
  
Until Liara finally, literally, shoved her towards the elevator, eyes narrowed and body tense as if prepared for a fight.   
  
Ella opened her mouth to say,  _something_ , and interrupted herself with a yawn; she could almost feel her eyes crack around the edges with exhaustion.   
  
Liara shook her head, part relief and part exasperation, and then the crease of her frown eased into a wide-eyed smile, almost as sweet and surprised as she'd been back on the  SR-1 .  "I don't expect to see her for at least eight hours.  Hopefully twelve.  Think you can manage that?"   
  
"Depends."  Ella turned to see Joker already inside the elevator.  He waved hello as she turned, a smirk and a flash of fingers, and then lifted his chin to look at Liara again.  "Is she supposed to get any sleep?  'Cause then I might need a little longer."   
  
Liara rolled her eyes, even as Specialist Traynor made a startled coughing choking noise.   _Someone isn't used to Joker yet._     
  
_And I can't remember what I thought so desperately needed finishing right this moment._   
  
So she nodded at Liara and Traynor, and joined Joker in the elevator.   
  
He kept his mouth shut, for once, leaning against the far wall, eyes steady and body still.  He was watching her as the doors closed, watching her stand, watching her lean against the wall, every shift of her body, so intent she could feel the pressure of his eyes against her skin.   
  
She wanted to return the favor, with hands instead of eyes, just the two of them.   
  
Instead she yawned again.  Now that she'd stopped moving, she wasn't sure she remembered how to start again.   
  
His voice had a trembling edge when he spoke up, as if he was trying not to laugh at her.  "Have you taken a break at all since Vancouver?"   
  
"Um."   
  
She was saved from her own foggy memory and another dose of sarcasm by the opening of the elevator doors.   
  
She blinked at the landing in front of her until she felt Joker poke her in the middle of the back.  "March, soldier."   
  
It was more of a shuffle, but she made it through the door.     
  
"Bed."   
  
She managed to leer in his general direction.  "Aren't you romantic?"   
  
Joker snorted.  "I prefer you awake and contributing."  He gave her a steadying hand as she almost stumbled down the stairs, and then turned her around and gave her a gentle shove in the chest, snickering as she gave up and fell back onto the bed.  "Scoot."   
  
She wriggled up onto the pillow, and was already half asleep by the time he got her boots off, and barely managed to open her eyes and grunt at him when she felt a blanket settle over her.     
  
"Sweet dreams."


	3. Chapter 3

_Black tendrils rising out of grey, grasping, clutching, tightening ..._   
  
Ella could feel her whole body heaving up, the curve of spine and the clench of fingers as she gasped, desperate for air, for breath, for warmth ...  
  
"Shhh."  The brush of knuckles moved slowly down the side of her arm, the whisper of a familiar voice beside her.  She couldn't remember the nightmare, not anymore, only a cold sick feeling in her stomach.  
  
 _We're all gonna die._   
  
She blinked a few times, hard enough to make her vision spot black, trying not to believe the small whisper inside her.  
  
"Almost three hours."  She felt Joker shifting beside her, putting his 'pad on the bedside table before turning back towards her, the dim blue light from the tanks tracing the ege of his jaw.  "That's pretty good, for you."  
  
Her laugh was a sad and pathetic thing, but it was better than crying, or hitting something.  
  
The soft touch of his lips on her cheek, the catch of his beard on her skin, was better than anything.  She turned in towards him, a reach of hands and legs, a need for touch, for skin.  For him.  
  
He kissed her, soft and slow, still murmuring every time she moved, "shhh, babe, it's alright," and it was only when he kissed her cheek and she had to gasp for air that she realized she was crying, hot tears slowly spilling down her skin, pooling against her nose, dripping onto the sheet beneath her cheek.  
  
"Oh, hell," she felt her breath catch, almost a sob, and rolled until her forehead just bumped against his shoulder, her face turned in towards the bed.  
  
He grunted as he shifted his weight, slowly adjusting until he was lying down beside her, fingers stroking along her hair.  He didn't say anything as he let her cry, his breath soft beside her, his hand occasionally tugging enough she could just feel the pull of hair against her scalp.  
  
She didn't cry for long, but even so her cheeks felt hot, her nose stuffed, her head thick and heavy.  She rubbed her face against him, then rolled back with another uneven chuckle.  "I ruined your shirt."  
  
"Nah, you're just giving me an excuse to take it off."    
  
The cool brush of his fingers moved behind her ear and down her neck, and she blinked her eyes with a sigh, feeling herself stretch a little beneath his touch.  "Do you need an excuse for that?"  
  
"I don't know," his whisper was so soft she could feel herself holding her breath to make sure she could hear every word.  "Do I?"  
  
"Never."  
  
He made a pleased hum as she slid a hand under the bottom of his shirt, palm flat against his back as she pulled them closer together so she could kiss him again, no more tears or nightmares in the way.  
  
She couldn't get close enough, even with her arms around him and her legs pressing against his, even with her tongue in his mouth and his breath against her skin, even when his fingers dug into the back of her neck and his mouth shifted across her skin, lips and teeth and tongue.  
  
"Joker."  He groaned against her jaw, heat and vibration and desire, and she pushed him away enough she could tug on his shirt.  "Off."  
  
Instead he leaned in again, his mouth finding the edge of her collarbone just past the edge of her shirt, his hands pressed to her breasts, and she couldn't talk, couldn't even manage to swear at him, her body aching and wanting and heavy beneath his touch.  
  
He was such a fucking tease, the stroking of his hands and the feel of his mouth and the rub of his beard and the sounds he made, low and rough and soft in the back of his throat.  He got her shirt off, and her bra, _thank god, sleeping with a bra is awful_ , and then there were lips around her nipple, and she had her hands in his hair, holding him against her chest, and she felt the tug as he licked and sucked, the pull and heat starting low in her stomach and going all the way up through her breast to his mouth, until the edge of teeth made her cry out.  
  
Her hands fell to his shoulders, gripping his shirt, tugging up, and up again, until he finally relented, and their bodies shifted, and she pulled it off him.  She spent an eternity just feeling his body again, shoulders and chest and back, her fingers gentle between his ribs, her teeth catching his skin and marking him, _mine_ , until she could feel his breath catch, his heart thudding inside his chest, the beat of his pulse in his neck.  
  
Until neither of them could stand the weight of their remaining clothes, and they finished stripping, and she loved his hands, oh god how she loved his hands, skin against her ribs, her stomach, her hips, curving along her ass as she straddled him, thumbs digging into the crease at the top of her thighs even as she reached between them to stroke his cock, to line him up before she slowly lowered herself on top of him.  
  
Braced on knees and elbows, her head fell to the bed beside his with a groan, _oh, yes_ , the smell of him, the feel of him, sex and skin and the catch of hair and the grip of his hands on her hips, and he was so very hard inside her.  He rolled up, pushing further inside, and she clenched around him, trying to hold him there, keep herself full of him, but he slowly eased back down again, heat and friction, and she ached to have him back, begged even, her breath uneven against his ear, fingers clenching into fists as she said his name, over and over.   
  
He never sped up, slow and terrible and perfect, until her stomach ached with it, her thighs and shoulders tense, her voice strangled in her throat, her breasts heavy against his chest, her skin hot and tight with anticipation.  She could feel his muscles hard beneath her, shoulders and chest and back, the tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into her skin as his breath sped up, even as he held himself to the same achingly steady pace, _close, so close_.  
  
One hand moved between them, his thumb finding just the right angle, the right amount of pressure, the perfect slide of his skin through her slick, pushing up against her clit until she couldn't take it anymore, eyes closed and body clenching tight around him, his voice a whisper accompanying the pleasure rolling through her, " _oh, yes, Ella"._  
  
Her body felt heavy, a shudder leaving her stomach and travelling through her body, and he gasped beneath her, his rhythm uneven, his pace finally broken, until with a final shift of his hips he groaned and came inside her.  
  
She probably would've stayed there forever, listening to him breathe, feeling him soften inside her, his hands resting on her back, fingers slowly stroking her skin, but her shoulder started to ache from the odd angle of her arm, and eventually she rolled off him to collapse onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling.  "Why didn't we do that as soon as I got back on the ship?"  
  
"Because sometimes we're stupid and forget to stop working?"  He shifted beside her, pulling up a tangled blanket to drape it over the both of them as he lay back down.  "Though, really, the galaxy was conspiring against us, what with Timmy-boy and the Council being extra-specially asshole-ish lately."  
  
She snorted, rolling her head 'til she could look at him.  "I missed you."  
  
"You too."  He smiled, all smirking eyes and mussed up hair and blue shadows across naked skin and fingers crawling across the bed until he could hold her hand.  "Glad to have you back."  
  
"Even when I'm not here, I'm all yours."  
  
His smile softened and his fingers gently squeezed.  "It's better when you're here."  
  
"Yeah, it is."  She squirmed a little closer, enjoying the feel of his arm against hers, letting her body relax.  Maybe she'd manage a nightmare free nap, this time. _And if not, he'll be here again, won't he?_  
  
"You're too good for me," she sighed softly, eyes slowly closing.  
  
"'Course I am."   
  
She snorted at his answer, and briefly considered freeing an arm out from under the blanket and waving some sort of rude gesture in his general direction.   _Nah.  Too much work._  
  
"But you're also much too good for me, so it all evens out.  Or something.  Now sleep, or Liara will yell at you again.  And possibly me, as well."  
  
She breathed a soft laugh, her thumb rubbing against his hand.  "God, I love you like crazy, you stupid man."  
  
"You're the one with a head as hard as a krogan, not me."  She could hear the smile in his voice.  "Being scared of the lady who can flail my skin off with her mind is perfectly reasonable."

She laughed again, an even softer breath than before, and felt herself settling heavily down into the bed, the weight of the blanket and her closed eyes almost enough to send her to sleep already.  She almost missed it completely when he spoke up again, a whisper of breath between them.   
  
"And I love you too, crazy woman."


End file.
